


Light Wears Thin

by AlphaMercy



Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, also jack is himself as you know, but no actual smut bc i cant write that for shit lmao, graphic or anything but there will be mentions of nudity an grinding and shit, so its not like, this is a stripper au thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaMercy/pseuds/AlphaMercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're owned by someone, your life is always going to a series of "what ifs". Rhys, after losing his arm in an accident, is trying to avoid that fate. After going through the surgery, corrupted doctors using him as a test dummy for Hyperion's latest prosthetic, he's drowning in debt. Vaughn brings him the possible solution to his money issues: <i>Light Made</i>, the most prestigous stripper joint in all of Pandora. </p><p>But the club is just a shining cover for dark secrets, and Rhys finds things spiraling out of his control as he finds himself interested in the man who holds his life between bloodied hands. Handsome Jack could be his ruin...or his saving grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Light Made

**Author's Note:**

> Jack’s not in this part, because I decided to make this longer than a one shot, but idk how long it’ll go on for ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> this was a prompt put out by @erinchu on tumblr, who was kind enough to tag me in it! so many thanks!

Rhys sighed, glancing at his arm. It was quite shiny, and high tech. And something he _ didn’t _ ask for. Yeah, it was fuckin’ great, still being able to have an arm and all, but not at the cost of basically  _ his _ life. Stupid fuckin’ docters.

“Rhys?”

He looked up at the call, seeing Vaughn and Yvette hovering in the doorway to his hospital room. “Hey guys.”

“You okay Rhys?”

He let out a short bark of bitter laughter. “ _ Okay? _ I’ve got debts up to my ears, to _ Hyperion _ of all companies, and the shitty journalist gig doesn’t pay  _ nearly  _ enough to cover it in the amount of time specified. So either I sign over my body and soul to Hyperion, or go bankrupt, homeless, and probably blacklisted from every job possible. So, no, I’m not  _ okay. _ ”

Vaughn looked taken aback, face set into a expression of shock, with a bit of hurt thrown in for good measure. Yvette just looked sad.

She gently pushed Vaughn out of the way, and walked over to Rhys. Yvette sat on the bed beside him, and took a breath. “Look, Rhys, I know you’re in a shitfest of a situation, but you need to focus on getting yourself  _ out. _ Not on how bad it is? And also not be such an ass to your friends. I get that you’re still in shock; I mean hell, not only did you survive being /blown up, but also losing one of your arms. It’s a lot recover from, but you need to let us  _ help _ you. You can’t do it on your own, Rhys, no matter what you think.”

Rhys let out a shuddering breath, shoulders hunching has he tried to control his emotions, but it was useless as Vaughn stepped over and wrapped an arm around him, Yvette joining in a second later.

* * *

 

So Rhys and his friends spent the next three months working, amassing as much cash as the could to start paying off Hyperion. Rhys had exactly four years to get rid of his debt, or else he became a piece of Hyperion property. He knew, realistically, that even with his friends helping, that there was no way to pay it all off with the crappy jobs they had. But he needed to stay  _ positive _ , as Yvette often told him. So he tried.

And when he woke up in the middle of the night, yelling and thinking he was about to be blown to bits, they were there, one or the other, sometimes both. They would sooth him with words at first, before touching him, running a hand through his hair and along his back. He hadn’t known in the beginning that his love for his friends could have grown anymore, but it had. So when he saw them, tired and stumbling the mornings after, he would quietly lead them to a seat, and then make coffee and breakfast. Sometimes the laundry would be done before Vaughn had the chance, and other times the house would be clean when Yvette got home from work. He felt terrible, but  _ so _ grateful to the two people who were pretty much his whole family now.

Rhys talked about it sometimes, when the lights were dim and the sky black; lips moving of a will all their own as he talked about his fears, his dreams, and anxieties. It wasn’t often, but to him, it was enough.

So, when the three month mark hit, and Vaughn came to him, he was open minded but wary.

“So…three hundred at a flat rate per night, one-fifty for a lap dance, plus any tips I get?”

“Yeah. I know you said that after college you wouldn’t go back into the business, but you’re  _ good _ Rhys, and you could definitely be one of their top dancers by the end of the six month contract.”

“Which means that I could possibly pay Hyperion off in a couple years,” Rhys finished the thought, face lifting into an almost happy expression.

“So, you’ll, uh, do it?” Vaughn asked hesitantly asked.

“Just—where  _ exactly _ did you hear about this job, anyways?”

“Uh, work?”

“Vaughn.”

“Yeah Rhys?”

“You work at  _ Hyperion _ ,” Rhys stated flatly, looking down at his friend blankly.

“Umm, yes?” He said, scratching the side of his neck as he did so.

“So this means it’s a  _ Hyperion-related _ job.”

“….yeah?”

_ “Fuck.” _

* * *

  
Rhys glanced around the room, taking in the different stations and people moving around, some scantily clad, others bare as the day they were born. He could feel the reflexive blush rising on his cheeks. Honestly, no matter how long he did this for, he could never really get used to the absolute lack of modesty people had. Though he _ was _ good at faking it himself.

“Yeah, so this is where you do your makeup and stuff, you keep your costumes in the room to the left, through that door,” his tour guide said as she pointed off to the right, where through an open door you could people getting dressed, or undressed as was the case for the guy with the  _ really _ nice ass and— _ holy shit did it just flex? _

“And this is your station. The only rules are to keep it clean, and keep your shit out of other people. Also no alcohol if you’re on stage, got it?” The thick brunette asked, head cocked, and hand on her hip.

“Yeah. So, um, when exactly do I start?”

“Technically not til Friday,  _ but _ if you wanted, you could do a bit of a stress-test tonight and make some tips. You won’t be paid by the company, so if someone asked, say, for a lap dance, than the one-fifty would be  _ all _ yours. Not just the one hundred after the company take the fifty off. Just be careful if ya do, kid. Try to stay away from the bar, and keep in touch with the other workers. We’ve all done this once or twice. No one’ll rat you out.” She gave him a small smile, before reaching out and squeezing his shoulder, “Just… _ be careful  _ okay? That’s the one official rule among us. Don’t do anything stupid or reckless.” She nodded and moved off, talking to a few other workers before making her way out.

Rhys just stood there looking around, and sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly in love with AU, so we'll see where it goes
> 
> [my tumblr](http://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	2. Dancers Even

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch a glimpse of what lies inside _Light Made_ , and Handsome Jack makes an appereance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so even without the lyrics, the chapter is 1212 so I'm p proud of myself. also this gets darkish, like, darker than thelast chap but nothing really bad?  
> and again: this is a stripper au, so nudity and sex will be mentioned, tho no smut.

_“There’s no place I’d rather be_

_Then on my surfboard out at sea_

_Lingering in the ocean blue_

_And If I had one wish come true_

_I'd surf till the sun sets_

_Beyond the horizon_

 

_A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi_

_Lawe mai i ko papa he'e nalu_

_Flyin by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride_

 

_A wiki wiki mai lohi lo-”_

 

“Oh my _god,_ will you turn that **off** already! You’ve listened to the same song for an _hour,_ jesus fuckin christ on a pogo stick!”

Rhys just stuck his tongue out a Casey, not caring that they were all that annoyed. Besides, it had only been a _half-hour_ , thank-you-very-much. And it was a _classic_ , so they’d just have to suck it up because Rhys loved his Disney. Casey was up in a few anyways, so it wasn’t like they’d have to endure the music much longer anyways. And Rhys was up after them, so they wouldn’t have to listen to it then, either. They could deal.

“Hey, Robin?” Seline asked, head propped up on her arms, her thick wavy brown hair pinned up to the side, showing off her smooth brown skin.

“Hm?” Rhys replied, looking up from his ECHO screen that was projecting from his palm. He might not have been the happiest about his arm, but _damn_ was it good.

“After your contract is up, what’re you gunna do?” She looked slightly scared, but Rhys was unsure why.

“Probably sign on for another six months if I don’t have the money I need. I’ve been here for almost a year now, Seline, and I’m getting there, but by Vaughn’s calculations, we fall short by a couple thousand, even _with_ Vaughn and Yvette pitching in where they can. I can make that in about three, maybe four months if I sign on again; I'm almost free. Then I don’t have to worry about this stupid fuckin’ company owning me like a piece of livestock. Stupid corrupt doctors. Whatever happened to the Hippocratic Oath?” Rhys frowned, arms crossed as he glared down at the ground. Even a year later, he still felt almost unbridled _rage_ at the doctors who had sold his life away to make some quick cash. Honestly, _fuck them._

“It’s just...Rhys, you really should get out as soon as you can. Find another place to dance at, or, even better, find a different job altogether. This place isn’t safe. _You know that._ You know we’re just pretty faces and the occasional fuck to them. Like what happened to Sparrow. They take one of us home, and we disappear and _no one_ cares, because it’s _Hyperion,_ and Hyperion can get away with _anything_ ,” her voice was bitter and caustic as she spoke, eyes darting around as if some Hyperion stooge would come looming out of the non-existent shadows of the brightly lit room.

Rhys grimaced, mind flashing to the picture of his former mentor, the pretty, thick brunette who had shown him around after he had been hired. A couple months ago, she had swapped shifts with Rhys out of nowhere, and a month and a half later, she had gone home with one of the execs, and she had never returned. When no one had shown up to claim her stuff, Rhys had taken most of it home. Two weeks later, an unidentifiable body had been found burning in a dumpster. Rhys knew _exactly_ what Seline meant.

When he had started this job, all those months ago, he had never imagined the kind of horrors and secrets that would be lying patiently beneath the flashing lights and naked bodies of _Light Made._ It scared him to no end, but being owned completely like many of the workers at the club scared him more. So he kept his mouth shut, and just did his job; dancing and shaking his ass for the thirsty, cheating men (and some women) who ran the fuckn company that ruined and owned so many lives. So far, no one had made the offer to take him home, and he was grateful that being the highest grossing worker made him nearly untouchable so far. He knew it wouldn’t last forever, though.

He sighed, swiping his flesh hand down his face tiredly. “I know, Seline. But I’m _so close._ I just need to hold out for a little longer. Vaughn might be getting a promotion, so if he does, I might just do the three month and then find another job, since I still have around three years left. I just-”

“Robin, you’re up! Get that fine ass out out there, boy!” Patty, the light and sound tech said over the comm, his voice crackling through the static.

“I’ll see you later Seline, be careful okay?”

She nodded her assent, and waved him off.

* * *

Jack was _bored_ . He had been here a hundred times before, played with all the pretty little workers more than enough, and had even kept a few here and there. But there was nothing _new_ or _exciting_ . Just the same-old same-old. He _hated_ boring. And he _especially_ hated being bored.

“Oh, come on baby, this isn’t the worst you’ve had to sit through. It’s _my_ night, let me enjoy this,” Nisha spoke lowly in his ear, chest pressed to his side. Jack swallowed. He might not be dating her, but _damn_ she knew how to play.

“Ye-ah. Ah, ahem, I mean yeah sure, no problem kitten,” Jack responde, voice breaking on the first word. _Goddamnit!_ He really need a drink or something. “You, uh, want something to drink? My treat.”

“Honey, this whole thing is _your treat._ But sure, get me a Suffering Bastard. Haven’t done the series in a long time. Wonder how many I can get through straight off? Guess we’ll see, won’t we?” She picked up her California Lemonade and drowned the rest as Jack got up and went to the bar.

“Freakin’ alcoholic, I swear. Hey, you,” he snapped at the perky looking bartender, his name was Logan or something; Jack just remembered how good he was at sucking dick, his pretty little face looking up at him all flushed and red, lips wrapped around him, choking as he struggled to take all of Jack in.

“Oh, Handsome Jack sir, what can I get for you?” He asked, voice steady, but eyes flickering a little in fear.

Jack leaned against the bar and grinned, more teeth than lips. “I need a Suffering Bastard, and, uh, three shots of Sex on the Beach delivered to my table ASAP, got it sweet cheeks?”

The bartender nodded and reached for a glass, moving away to get the alcohol needed. Jack stood from his position against the counter and turned, beginning his way back to his table.

 _“Now, for our best, and prettiest, dancer of the night, our own little songbird, Robin!”_ The announcement boomed over the speakers, and made Jack pause. _Robin?_ That was a new name, but if they were on of the best, they had to have been there for a while. Curious.

A slow beat started up, an almost slow jazz beat, but more modern. The lights dimmed, and a lean figure walkout onto the stage, hips swaying softly, glitter and clothes sparkling softly in the spotlight.

 

_“I stand firm for our soil_

_Lick a rock on foil_

_So they juice me, seduce me_

_Dress me up in Stussy.”_

 

Jack watched, captivated as the man grabbed the pole, hips and legs moving like nothing Jack had seen before. He swung gently around, and yet so sensually. He was practically _caressing_ the pole as the speakers pumped out the static-y sounding music. Jack didn’t hear or see anything but he dancer, pale legs and long body hanging upside-down. _Who was this man?_

 

_"Hell is 'round the corner where I shelter_

_Isms and schisms_

_We're living helter skelter_

_If you believe or deceive_

_Common sense says you shouldn't receive_

_Let me take you down the corridors of my life_

_And when you walk, do you walk to your preference…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! the two songs used in the chapter are hawaiian roller coaster ride by mark keali'i ho'omalu, and hell is round the corner by tricky
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr.](http://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	3. It's the Devil Holding Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chap is short

Rhys was aware something about the crowd was different tonight, but he concentrated on nothing but the dance, on the pole and the music. On the sweat making it’s way down his back as he stripped out of the skin-tight shirt and dropped it off to the side. The song was almost over, and as such, so was his routine. So he kept his eyes lidded and moved sinuously, sensually to the slow beat, the sound reverberating inside his head, a distant ringing in his ears.

He slid down the pole, small shorts riding up and exposing more pale flesh. He slowly stood back up as the music slowed even more, carelessly caressing himself in front of the drooling crowd as the music faded out. The lights switched back on to their just-barely-able-to-see-three-feet instead of the almost pitch black of before. He gave a coy smile and bowed, before turning and approaching the back room, swaying his hips a bit more than usual. There were whistles and howls that echoed and followed him into the changing. Rhys _hated_ them.

“Nice show out there, Robin,” Kyle greeted him with, mouth wrapped around a red sucker, “Heidi has your tips. Get changed and head out to the pit, okay?”

Rhys started to strip, clothing falling to the floor with soft _thumps._ “Sure thing, Kyle. Who’s up next anyways? There wasn’t anyone on the roster after me, and I know we aren’t closing early tonight.” Rhys was curious, this had never happened before in the time he had been at _Light Made._ That, paired with the unusual feeling of _different_ in the crowd tonight had him slightly on edge.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Rhys paused, glancing up at his manager, eyeing him warily. Kyle’s voice was the same, but yet not. There was an undercurrent of strain, and slight warning. Someone _big_ was out there. Big, and powerful enough to change the setlist, and make Kyle _scared_. Rhys felt a sudden bolt of panic.

“They haven’t... _asked_ for me, have they?” He felt the terror clawing its acidic way up his throat, but he swallowed, pushing it back down and regaining what meager piece of control he had over his emotions.

“No, not yet at least. You’re not up for that yet. Though if our VIPs asked, we really couldn’t deny. So just keep your head down, do what your told, and _be careful_ ,” he said lowly, sucker crushed between grinding teeth.

Rhys nodded mutely, hands shaking as he pulled up his pit outfit, a skin tight glittery blue crop top with tiny jean shorts and a pair of low blue heels. It was probably his most covering outfit.

“Alright. I’ll see you at the end of the night.”

“W-wait.”

Kyle looked back at him, eyes sad, but face closed off. “Yeah, Robin?”

“Who’s out- who are the VIP tonight? _Please,_ Kyle.”

“Handsome Jack and Nisha Kadam.” With that Kyle left, mouth playing with the lolly stick between his lips.

Rhys closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, and did the only thing he could. He stood up straight, took another breath, and put on a smile.

Then he left, striding out into the pit to do his job, weaving in between tables, taking orders and fetching drinks. He kept the smile firmly in place, whether he was sitting on uncomfortably hard laps of men, grinding down, or straddling the thin boney legs of women looking at him lustfully. Rhys never stopped moving, doing his job as person after person pinched, smacked, and squeezed a part of him. He did it even as workers came and went on stage, the club staying open far longer into the night than it ever usually did.

It was almost four am now, and Rhys could feel the ache start in his feet as he leaned against the bar, the first time he had stopped for more than two minutes all night. He was weary, a heavy sort of haze starting to cloud his mind as he took a breath and plated the drinks laid before him.

“Where are-” Rhys paused to yawn, turning his head into his shoulder since his hands were full, “Sorry Logan, where are these going to?”

Logan looked up from the glass he was cleaning, eyes tired even though his face was perky and welcoming. “Rhys...those go to table 50. The VIP booth.”

Rhys paused, tired mind trying to connect pieces of the puzzle. It became suddenly clear and Rhys stood up, alert and slightly scared. “ _Fuck,_ you don’t mean-?”

Logan nodded solemnly.

* * *

Once the man had finished his routine, Jack had felt the lost control return to his body, and he walked jerkily back to his table, mind stuck on a lean torso and long legs, sweat glimmering as it dripped down a toned body, and face an open invitation. His pants were tight, he felt as if he couldn’t catch a breath, his face feeling flushed under the mask he wore.

“What’s wrong with you? Ya look like you’re about to collapse if ya stand up any longer,” Nisha comment, swirling her drink around in the ice-blue glass.

Jack sat, ass thumping on the plush couch as he let out a large breath. “Do you know who that dancer was?”

“Robin? He’s a pretty boy, for sure, but he’s been here for _ages_. I thought ya said ya came here often?” She said curiously, fingers stilling in their motions, eyes searching his face for something he wasn’t sure she’d find.

“I _do_ , or, well, I did til I got bored! Playing with the same toys over and over again ain’t that fun, pumpkin. But him? He’s _new_ , and papa does love new toys,” Jack responded, eyes closing as he tipped his head back as delicious thoughts ran through his mind. “How do you know him anyways?”

Nisha shrugged even though Jack couldn’t see her. “I come here when I need a pretty face to look at. He’s been here for about a year. Boy was shy as a graceless ducklin’, but he sure bloomed into quite the little worker bee. He knows what he’s doin’ with that ass of his.” She gave a small sigh, mouth curling into a grin as she remembered one of the best lap dances she’d ever had.

Jack opened his eyes, glancing at his companion. “Huh. Well, he’s certainly got the ass for it.”

Nisha nodded in assent, mouth still curled.

A server brought their drinks over, and Jack spent a lot of his time watching the dancer— _R_ _obin_ , he thought to himself, _he’s called Robin_ —wait on tables across the room, giving lap dances to patrons and whispering things to other workers. He kept a smile on his face even as the night dragged on, as the customers thinned and the people drooped like wilting flowers.

Nisha had finished her series of drinks an hour or so ago, though Jack had only done the three shots like five hours ago. He would usually be bored enough to kill someone by now, but just sitting and watching _Robin_ work was _enthralling._

“Hey, why don’t you go order us some more drinks? I think I could use a pick-me up before we leave. _Man,_ I could go for a sandwich. We should get somethin’ to gnaw on when we get out of here,” Nisha said off-handedly, watching the three dancers up on stage twirl and grind on each other.

“Yeah sure,” Jack replied, not really caring about her words. He did as requested though, ordering her a Rum Runner, and himself a glass of root beer pop.

“Hey, make sure that Robin delivers these. I want to….congratulate him on such a good routine.”

The bartender nodded quickly, and Jack left. It might have been a weak excuse, but he was _Handsome friggin’ Jack_ and **no one** questioned him.

Now all he had to do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short I'm havin' issues w/ jack's part. will post that when i figure it out lmao rip
> 
> [my tumblr](http://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	4. Sold My Soul to a Three Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chap is short i sorry

Rhys took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and slapped on another smile. Logan looked at him in worry, but Rhys just shook his head.

“I—I’ll be _ fine _ . Yeah, just another VIP to serve. See you in a bit, ok?”

Logan nodded, eyes asking  _ ‘will I really?’ _

Rhys’ answered sadly  _ ‘I don’t know, goodbye.’ _

And then Rhys turned, picking up the tray, hoping beyond all things holy that he’d live to see the next sunrise. 

The tray wasn’t really that heavy, but to him, it felt like a lead ball, shackled to his wrist dragging him down under calm waters. But that was a false calm, the surface betraying the raging currents that pushed and pulled him further out into the deep. Rhys was doing all he could to keep his head above the water, internally freaking out as he got closer and closer to The Table.

It was across the room, on the other side of the to the little catwalk part of the stage, pressed against a wall. Most people, upon first glance, wouldn’t think that it was a good spot. But not only did it provide on of the best views, it also provided two exits in case something happened and the VIPs needed. It was also very private, the nearest tables a good five or six feet away, and had both nice high walls (which were able to be lowered if the VIP so preferred) and a curtain for... _ discussions _ and other things. Rhys recited this in his head like a mantra, adding on the rules and regulations for customer interactions.

It didn’t help.

 

Rhys felt his heart quicken as he rounded the catwalk, Maggie leaning against the center pole, reaching out for Rhys as if he were a lost love, adoration and love on her face. He could feel her eyes following him as he swept past, breathing speeding up as the booth entered eyesight. Rhys needed to calm down, or this would just—it would not be good for him.

The was a woman ( _ Nisha, this was the infamous Lawbringer _ ) lounging along a good portion of the booth seat, feat propped up on the table. Rhys had the urge to tell her to ‘take them down please, we don’t allow feet on the tables.’ He was pretty sure that’d get him shot three words in. She was wearing boots, with tight black pants, and a white shirt, a large purple star taking up most of the space. There was a long black jacket thrown over the booth wall, and a black wide-brimmed hat sitting crooked on the corner. She had a gun on one hip, and the other resting casual on the table next to her empty glass. They didn’t allow customers weapons either.

She glanced up with a smirk painted on full lips, eyes dancing. “Hey there stranger.”

Rhys gave a brief smile towards her, eyes skimming the area for the man he was most worried about. He wasn’t there. Rhys felt his shoulders relax, and the smile he forced was more genuine, though he was still wary. 

“Hello. I have...one Rum Runner and one—uh,  _ rootbeer _ ?” Rhys told her, smile finally falling as he stared at the small notepad with orders in confusion.

Nisha sighed, boots slipping off the table. “Yeah, sounds right. He’s such a child I swear.”

Rhys just shrugged, handing her the alcohol, shifting the tray around so he could set the rootbeer opposite of the powerful woman, a blue-grey just able to be seen on the seat. Rhye set the glass down, quickly placing a straw next to it, and tucked the tray under his chest.

“Is there anything else you may need, m’am?”

She gave him a sly look, smirk widening. “Polite of you, didn’t even have to say anything. You’ve definitely blossomed here, kid.”

Rhys was confused, but he just gave her another polite smile and a “Thank you.” Then he made sure he had everything, and went to turn.

Except he couldn’t, because two hands had just thumped heavily onto his shoulders, a metal  _ something _ ( _ a clip, _ his mind whispered,  _ a metal chin clip _ ) digging into the skin next to the large warm hand.

“Hi there, little Robin.”

Rhys felt his heart stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for how short this is, i'm having issues w/ jack's part. that'll go up as soon as i get it done lmao rip
> 
> []()


	5. Control

Jack was  _ excited _ . He had ordered the last drinks of the night, and was (im)patiently awaiting the arrival of the dancer who had captured his attention so thoroughly. Jack bounced a leg, glancing at the counter for the fifth time in a minute. He sighed, hands fiddling in his pocket for his lighter. He was craving a cigarette, but Nisha had taken his pack around one as he’d been chain smoking earlier and his pack was well on it’s way to empty. He sighed again, messing with his hair.

Nisha groaned and sat up, glaring at him. “If you’re so fuckin’ impatient go get me some food. I’m sure your new obsession will be here when you get back.”

Jack  _ hmphed _ but did as he was told, not wanting to piss the powerful woman off. She was a good asset and, well if Jack had  _ friends _ , she’d be one of his better ones. But he only had  _ assets  _ and  _ flings _ and  _ employees _ . He didn’t have  **friends** . But that was okay with him. He could do or get whatever he wanted, so he didn’t need ‘friends’; really they were just people who would turn around and stab you in the back first chance they got. So Jack wasn’t really on the whole  _ friend _ bandwagon.

He grabbed the burger and side of fries that he had ordered from the bar, which seemed so out of place in an establishment like this, and turned, striding back to the table. Jack wondered if Robin’s skin was as smooth as it looked, or if it would be slick with sweat and glitter. It was a pale sort of colour, with hints of a lost tan, like a piece of dark wood, sunbleached and weathered by the elements. It had the look of something lost. Jack  _ loved _ finding hidden treasures, the thrill of the hunt, the elation of the find, and the utter  _ control _ he had over whatever he discovered. Power was a heavy thing, heady on the tongue and warm in the veins, coursing through one with the feel of an inferno, consuming and destroying. Jack was the eye, the centre. He held the heart in the palms of bloodied hands. There was  _ nothing _ he couldn’t have. Robin was just another face to add to the list miles long.

He ignored the workers and patrons he passed as he walked back, deep in thought, imaginary fingers lingering over skin and wrists, edging up across a long throat and down a lean torso. There was music, but if was different than the clubs, and there might have been a bed, and possibly a collar. On who, Jack couldn’t say. But it was a sweet little dream, one he’d have to make a reality. And he  _ would _ , there were no doubts about that. 

Jack glanced up, the walk having only been a couple of minutes, but feeling as if it had been forever. There was a sweet, pert ass swaying lightly in the air as the rest of the body leaned over the table. Jack felt his excitement rush back full force, and he abandoned the food on the closest table, ignoring the sputtering from whatever idiot was sat there. The body straightened, and Jack crept closer, eyes running along exposed flesh and long legs. He let large hands fall onto slim shoulders, chip dropping down along side them, lips curved into a smile as the body froze.

“Hi there little Robin.”

There was silence, Nisha watching with a sly smile and curious eyes, toying with one of her beloved pistols. Robin was stiff, but warm beneath Jack. body tensed as if he wished to run. Ut there was nowhere to go, trapped between Jack and the table. The power thrummed through Jack again, a small reminder of the strength he wielded like a gun.

“Well, little bird, are you goin’ to sing somethin’ sweet for me? Or has the cat got the canary?”

The man shift the tiniest bit, a small shiver running down his body. Jack grinned wider, hands slipping down the shoulders and onto the arms, one flesh and one cool metal. It was bit of a surprise, as Jack had forgot one arm was fake.  _ And owned by Hyperion, apparently _ , he thought, glancing at the sleek design he himself had approved only six or so months ago. He tucked that thought away for later, and focused on how Robin reacted to his touch instead.

“Ah. Hello there, sir. Is there—is there anything you need help with?”

“Oh kiddo, there are  _ plenty  _ of things you can help me with. Particularly of the bottom kind. But that’s for later, yeah?” Jack stepped back. Just enough for the man to turn and look at him.

There was fear in those mismatched eyes, but determination. And something akin to hate. Jack was curious, but he didn’t care all that much.

Jack went to open his mouth, something like  _ “wanna see me bedroom?” _ on the tip of his tongue, but there was no chance to speak.

“Jack!” Nisha’s voice was sharp like the crack of the well-love whip she used. She was sitting straight, face set into a glare. “The hell is my food? Argh, whatever. It’s late and I want to leave. I’m gettin’ bored. You can come back later, when it’s not my birthday. Let’s go.”

And with that, she set her hat upon her head, jacket slung over one shoulder and she stood, boots clacking as she swayed away, towards the regular exit. Jack was gobsmacked. Robin was surprised too, but he recovered quicker, and made a quick escape in Nisha’s wake. Jack cursed, hand reaching out to catch him, but he was too slow. The man disappeared into the crowd of workers and patrons, and Jack wanted to shoot someone.


	6. Dissolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooooooo it's been a while yeah? i just wanna give a small shout out to my friend nina, who's really the reason i was able to motivate myself to finish this chapter

Rhys slammed the door shut behind him, heart not even racing, but more like Usain fucking _bolting_ down the goddamned track. He felt too cold and too hot, there was sweat slowly, lazily curling its way down his neck. His blood pounded and his breathing was harsh.

But….he was _alive._ He was _alive_ after meeting _Handsome Jack._

**_Holy shit._ **

“Robin?”

He started, eye so wide the white part was more visible than usual.

“Robin? Robin it’s me, Maggie. Sugah, yer paler than a ghost. C’mon, let’s get ya a drink,” she said softly, holding a placating hand out, as if he was a scared wild animal. She waited, watching as his breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed, albeit only the smallest bit.

He swallowed—air or spit or bile he didn't know—and nodded. A drink sounded god-sent to him right now. “Okay,” he said quietly, pausing and then again, louder, “Okay, yeah. Okay.”

Maggie smiled softly before stepping back and gesturing to the small hallway. At the end was the door to the small, but lavish, employee lounge where Logan or Kyle were probably serving the rest of the clocked out staff drinks and food.

“Yeh’ll be okay kid. Some food and a stiffy will do ya some good.”

Rhys’ smile was somewhat forced, but less than he'd thought it would be. It was also...well, there was the fact he could still feel his heart pumping as if blood and oxygen were going out of style, or the fact his hands shook to the point he had to curl them into tight fists to keep the controlled. (How did his _mechanical_ arm even achieve this? It was a _machine_ , it shouldn’t have been able to **do** that.)

Maggie smiled back, before she turned and strode, well really it was more of a quick swagger, down the hall. Rhys followed her at a more sedated pace, flesh hand playing with his hair. The other was shoved into the small, almost nonexistent really, pocket of his shorts. Maggie had opened the door by now, and she was speaking to someone in the room. She glanced back at him, a smile on her face, but worry in her eyes.

There was a shout from inside the room, laughter, and then the sound of clinking glasses. Rhys slipped by Maggie, eyes wandering over those gathered. There was Kyle behind the bar, so Logan was probably cleaning up and would be back soon. Casey was leaned over the bar, eyelashes fluttering at Kyle. They were probably trying to bother the poor bartender into another date. Rhys grinned softly and shook his head. Casey was absolutely incorrigible once they had a target. Seline was draped tiredly over a chair, head tilted back and eyes shut. Kelvin was next to her, lips moving but no sound to be head from the entrance of the room. There was Macha, perched on her favorite stool at the end of the bar, and Lilly on his feet, leaning against the back wall, wine glass in hand.

And then there was a yell, pounding on padded hardwood, and then there were arms thrown around his neck, his own full of—was that _Yvette?_

“Robin! Oh thank the gods above! Seline texted us hours ago, and we’ve been back here waiting after Mori let us in. Are you okay?” Yvette pulled back, patting him down and checking to see if he was alright, but still somehow able to remember calling him by his stage name. Rhys just stood there, frozen in shock. She only acted like this when she was extremely worried. But why had Seline texted... _them?_ Did that mean Vaughn was—Rhys looked up, eyes skipping over the familiar figures of the club, until they came to rest on a small form with glasses and brown hair, set a few feet away. His friend gave him a tight smile, worry in his eyes.

“Hey bro.”

Rhys cracked a small grin, ignoring Yvette as she went to grab his favorite hoodie and sweatpants from his cubby. “Hey dude,” he mumbled, holding a still-curled hand out for a fist bump.

Vaughn blinked, but brought his own fist up and bumped it against Rhys’. “You okay man?” His friend peered up at him, eyes searching Rhys’ face from behind his glasses.

Rhys nodded. “Just….a little jumpy. It was intense.” He wanted to snort at himself. _That_ was the understatement of the year.

Vaughn just nodded though, “Yeah bro, I mean, _Handsome Jack?_ Can’t believe you actually got away! But I’m glad you did. Did he at least tip you?”

Rhys blinked, before scowling playfully and pushing his best friend. “Asshole. And no, he didn’t. The only reason I was able to get away was because of his companion. Nisha Kadam.”

Vaughn started at that, mouth opening as if he were about to say something.

But he was cut off, Logan's voice cutting through the room. “Robin.”

He looked over at the other man, Heidi following behind him, a case clutched in her hands.

“Logan. Hi. Is—is he gone?” He cringed at the audible shake in his voice.

“Yeah,” he turned to the woman behind him, gesturing, “Heidi, give out the tips and then everyone can head home. It’s been a long night, you all need some rest. Robin, I suggest you take a break for the next week or so, maybe go job searching again.”

Rhys nodded, stepping over to the bar and asking for a small glass of lemonade, the non-alcoholic kind. He didn’t need to be getting drunk right now, that would only make things worse. Instead, he chatted with Vaughn, giving Yvette a small smile after she reappeared with his bag in her hands, and watched Heidi move around the room, handing out the tips from the night. Paychecks were deposited directly into accounts every Friday afternoon (2 pm on the dot), so there was no worry or waiting around for anything besides the tips. No one stuck around longer than necessary, the fear of being caught outside of the building by a customer a good motivator for getting home on time. Which is why having so few people in the lounge was normal.

“Robin, here.” Slim olive toned fingers appeared holding an extremely thick envelope, thicker than usually, with his name written neatly on the front.

He plucked it from her hands, weighing the envelope in his flesh palm. It was quite heavy, and he glanced at her inquisitively.

She brushed a purple strand of hair out of her face while thinking of what to stay. “He...well, Handsome Jack. He stopped at the bar before he and Miss Kadam left. He dropped a few fifties and hundreds claiming they were for you. You also made a killing tonight from your dance, you’re doing really well Robin.” She gave him a tiny smile before moving on to Lilly and speaking with the man for a few.

Rhys just looked at Vaughn, eyes wide.

Yvette coughed, and grabbed an arm from each man, before dragging them out to her car. Rhys; head was clouded the entire way home. He was confused, he was _terrified_ ...but he was also _excited_. Tonight had been something new, something unexpected. He wasn’t sure what he felt, but it was a turn from the normal. And as his head settled down onto his pillow, a lilting, mocking voice whispered in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	7. Our Weapons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _gasp_ a chapter so soon? i know, it's crazy!  
>  a shout out to bunbrigade for giving me the idea for this chapter!

Glass crunched under booted feet, echoing in the small space and grating on fine-tuned ears. It was dark, and the smell of blood was in the air. The wind whistled through the jagged edges of broken windowpanes while the nightlife howled and moaned and screeched.

Nisha grinned, eyes sharp as she scanned the room, gun tight in hand. With one last cursory glance to the room of broken things and discarded dreams, she moved on. The building she was in was located on the edge of the city, and like most others on the edge, it had been abandoned as the bandits and wildlife of Pandora closed in. Now they were used as an outer circle of protection, a sort of buffer between them and the harsher world outside.

When the (surprisingly shallow) lake around Opportunity had dried up, Jack had seen it as a chance to expand. Opportunity had grown, and brought in more money and people. Not just regular citizens though; a good portion of Helios had come down to man the city’s various businesses and daily planet-side operations. Jack had an office down here as well. He’d switch between the two, but Nisha prefered the solid ground beneath her feet, even if it was her native ground. This was...home or something stupid like that.

Nisha shook her head and went back to the subject on hand. Bandits and the more _fun_ wildlife sometimes decided that the abandoned buildings were a good place to set up roost. Jack, of course, disagreed and had teams to take care of the problems. But Nisha often found herself bored, and a hunt was always a good way to ease some tension.

So she here she was, prowling the corridors on the thirtieth floor of _Magmus Tame_ , a hotel/casino combo. The rooms had been lavishly decorated once upon a time, but weather and people had striped all but the bare nuts and bolts from them. Occasionally she would glance some broken piece of tech, or a table, maybe torn cloth. And the fresh droppings of a skag. Or in this case, a pair of skags, as the dead body she’d left behind on the twenty-third floor and the claw marks along her stomach and thigh indicated. She berated herself for not realizing it was a young mated pair, and being foolish enough to get injured.

Now she was hunting the other skag, the female, who had given her the claw marks. _It was almost like being home again, if you replaced the skags with V’rleks, and the ratty old hotel with the wastelands_ , she thought to herself, a small smile pulling at her stern face.

She paused in the doorway of another room, staring out the window that faced the city itself. From here she could see the core of the city: Hyperion’s main building on Pandora, _Pyrois_. It was a behemoth of a building, outstripping most other buildings by at least five floors. It was also the shiniest piece of shit in Opportunity, even now in the evening light it glittered like some forbidden jewel encrusted into a foreign crown, shining and wealthy. Personally Nisha hated it. Jack had a taste for the ostentatious, and this perfectly encapsulated that.

It also held a few business...like _Light Made_. She grinned wolfishly and pushed off the door jamb, all while thinking back to last week as she continued her search through the large hotel floor.. Jack really _had_ been quite enraptured by Raven...or was it Robin now? Strippers were always so fickle with their real names, though she had never expected to run into this particular one ever again. He had really grown from the scrawny, desperate child from Ti’vovar dancing for college money, and into a confident, self assured man who knew how work his body and make money.

She stalked down the hall, reminiscing of the days when she was still starving, when she had started to make it. Her life was difficult, and she hadn’t many things to tie her back to her past. Raven... _Robin_ was one of them. She wondered idly if she could scare one of the contractors into revealing his name, and address too if possible. It’d be fun to give the man a visit. He looked like the type to scream when surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](http://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	8. Call My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *coughs* so um. hi. it's been a long time. enjoy?

_ It was dark and dingy, the strobe lights reflecting off of his sweaty body, hands pawing at things he didn’t want them too. But all he did was grin and shake his ass some more, money being tucked uncomfortably in the waistband of his pants...if they could even be called that. _

_ The bar was grimey under his arms, and he grimaced, placing the tray down with a soft  _ thwck _. God all he wanted was to get drunk and go home, but the club was in full swing now, 1 am its prime. _

_ “This place causes quite the ruckus, don’t it?” A soft voice said, accent rolling off. _

_ He snorted. “All strip joi _ _ nts on Ti’vovar make a ruckus.  _ Promedea _ is no different, and just as nasty.” Rhys looked up at the voice’s owner, eyeing her pulled back black hair and amber eyes. “Who are you, anyways? I know most of the customers, and you’re definitely not a worker,” he said, tired eyes glancing up and down her. _ __  
_ “You can call me K. I’m the new bouncer,” was her simple reply. _ _  
_ __ He went to hold out a hand, crude metal one resting on the bar, but the scene blurred and suddenly he was 23 and in his old college apartment, K hovering over him.

_ “You call  _ that _ a block? Kid, you’re gunna get your ass handed to you by some nasty rapey old dude. So get the fuck up and try again.” _

_ He’s 25 now, standing on a small ship, a small photo in hand, a pack on his back as he heads for Hyperion territory, Vaughn waiting for him on the other side. He’s scared but he remembers what K taught him, remember her words. _

_ “You can only rely on yourself to protect you. Yeah, friends are nice and they can help, but when it comes to Hyperion, they’re a snake hidden in your bouquet. Keep yourself alive Raven.” _

Rhys woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed, staring down at his hands, old memories racing through his clouded mind. Why was he remembering K now, almost four years later, all this time after she left him, just _left_ _him_? Left him there on Ti’vovar, left him to the grime and the disgust. She could have taken him with her, she _could have_ , but she _didn’t_. He still resented her for it, but it was a faded, bitter peel  resting like a shriveled thing on the back of his tongue. He sighed, and scrubbed at his eyes. IT was years ago, he’d forgotten her almost, but not what she taught him.

He looked up, glancing around his darkened room before slipping out of bed and padding to his closet, the door already cracked open, as if anticipating his actions. Rhys nudged it open the rest of the way and stepped inside, flicking the light on as he did. 

The dim bulb illuminated his clothing, the shirts neatly pressed and hanging on one side, his pants on the other. He kept all his work clothing in his dresser with his underwear and socks, not wanting to get it mixed up with his regular clothes. The was also shelves lining the top on either side, and the back.

Which was where the small box he wanted rested, dusty from years of abandonment. He grasped it carefully, nose wrinkling at the dust motes thrown into the air by his actions. He stepped back carefully, out of the small closet, and into his dark room, the faint light from his closet barely affecting the rest of the room. 

Rhys sat on his bed, not care about the dust as he wiped his hands on the sheets, lifting the lid off and tossing it aside. He stared at the contents, mind racing through memories he hadn’t thought about in some time. 

He gently reached in and lifted out the first thing, an old watch.  _ His sisters. _ It was dulled by the years, but still gleamed slightly. The hands were stopped at 10:49. He swallowed, and set it down to the side, trying not to look at the small crack that ran through the glass. 

Next was the picture from his dream, faded and worn with age. But it was still clear who was in it. He, skinnier and less confident ( _ withhisrealarmhisflesharmohgod _ ), stood awkwardly in a tee shirt and jeans, one arm hooked over the shorter K, her amber eyes glowing with a mischievous light. She was in her favorite purple tank, little white stars studded about, long black hair loose around her dark face. Her lips curved, showing pearly teeth. Rhys blinked, and a drop of...water? Fell onto her face, blurring it. He reached up, and realized her was crying.

_ Why…?  _ He hadn’t cried over her since she left. Left him with nothing but the things she taught him and a kiss on the cheek. And the photograph he still held oh so gently in his hands. K had been a big part of his life during college, as he danced for his tuition money and a chance to get away from the rabid hole of a planet. Ti’vovar was not a place one wanted to stay.

He sighed, and set the picture aside, reaching for the last few items; there was Ma’s favorite book, the cover worn and stained, and Mom’s gardening gloves, still as dirty as the had been since she got them, and lastly there was his older sister's hat, slightly flattened but in fairly good repair. He looked at all the items, memories of a life he’d left behind, something he’d hidden from himself and others. 

But...there was one other thing in the box.  _ A feather? _ He pulled it out, the glossy black-blue sheen barely covered by dust. It was soft, but the end was sharp, and he pricked himself accidentally. Blood welled up[, and Rhys popped the finger in his mouth, sucking on it a bit as he glanced at the feather again. It almost looked like...oh. 

Rhys dropped the feather as if it were acid, mind blank and heart trying to decide if it should run or stop. 

_ A ravens feather. She left me a ravens feather. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](https://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	9. Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! new chapter super fast aaayyyee

Jack growled as he paced  his office, the sunset glinting off the buildings of Opportunity. The light reflected and refracted, like fine jewelry discarded in the desert.  _ His _ fine jewelry, one he only cared for when it was needed.

He was annoyed, and restless. He hadn’t slept well in  _ days _ . His hair was a disheveled mess, bags under his eyes, though one wouldn’t know unless his mask was removed, and his skin was sallow underneath, pale and unhealthy looking.

Mismatched eyes that were not his own haunted his dreams and waking hours, lean body and pert mouth torturing him. Jack was obsessed. There was no other word for it. And that obsession happened to be the elusive  _ Robin _ . 

Jack was simply captivated by the mysterious man, the way his body moved stuck in his mind, the way his eyes slipped half shut and beckoned him closer. And yet the man evaded him. Jack had gone back each night for the past week, hoping to catch a glimpse of Robin. But there was  _ nothing _ . None of the workers knew where he lived, and they only said that Robin would be back soon when asked when his return was.

Jack groaned and slid into his (extremely comfortable) desk chair, staring out the window in tired annoyance. All he wanted was to see this stupid mystery man, but he was denied over and over. Jack wasn’t used to being  _ denied _ things. He was used to getting what he wanted the minute he asked for it, and if it was any slower...well, people died. It was simple as that.

His intercom crackled to life, the timid but somehow firm voice of his secretary coming through, “Handsome Jack sir, Ms Kadam is here to see you. Would you like to to reschedule your afternoon meetings for tomorrow?”

Jack groaned before he leaned forward and pressed a button, responding to her question, “Yeah yeah, do that. Tell Timmy that he can meet me for drinks later at my place. Oh, and tell R&D if they don’t have something friggin’ impressive on my desk by tomorrow afternoon I’m gunna need to do some spring cleaning. Go on and send Nisha in.” 

He flopped back and kicked his feet up on the desk, fiddling with his wrist blasters. Nisha sauntered in (she didn’t  _ walk _ anywhere), a grin on her lips and blood on her clothes. Some of it was hers, some of it not. 

“The hell happened to you?”

“I got careless, why? You  _ concerned _ ?” She purred, eyes glinting. 

Jack frowned and threw his feet off the desk and stood. “ _ No _ , I just don’t want you gettin’ friggin’ blood everywhere,”

Nisha laughed, hat tilting a bit with the force. “Whatever ya say cowboy.” She cocked her hip to the side, gun rustling with the movement. “Anyways, since ya’ve been lusting over this Robin I figure I could do you a favor and find him for you.” She examined her nails in boredom, waiting for his response.

Jack was surprised, frozen where he stood, eyes widened a bit as he processed her words. Then they narrowed, and he prowled towards her. “And  _ what _ exactly would you want again? Just to jog my memory.”

Nisha grinned and sat down on his couch, sprawling out as she did. “Oh nothin’ much. Maybe a new gun or two. And some personal time with lil’ ol’ Robin before I tell you where his. I won’t  _ taint _ him before you can get your paws on him, don’t worry.”

Jack resumed his pacing from before, and thought her proposal over. Nisha wouldn’t do anything with Robin is she said she wouldn’t. She didn’t seem very interested in him like that (distantly Jack wondered why that was), and if he promised to give her something new and shiny she’d definitely keep to her word.

“...Fine. You’ve got three days. R&D are working on some stuff that’ll make you cream yourself kitten. So do try and be prompt. Now, get the hell off my couch, you’re gunna stain it.”

Nisha guffawed but did as Jack told her, sliding off the furniture with a grin. “See ya in three days cowboy.” And out she sauntered, hips swaying, hat crooked and whistling a jaunty toon.

Jack sighed and closed his eyes, running a hand down his face. 

 

* * *

 

Nisha stretched as she walked, fresh clothes and no wounds to slow her down as she sashayed her way into the very empty  _ Light Made _ . There were no patrons, and few workers, mostly just a cleanup and prep crew for the coming night. She made her way to the bar, sliding into a seat smoothly.

The small bartender looked up, a smile freezing on her face when she saw who was there. “Oh— hello. May I get you something to drink ma’am?” She asked, soft voice wavering the slightest bit.

“Yeah. You can get me whoever runs this joint. And a rootbeer if you have one,” Nisha pulled back her lips in a mockery of a grin, showing off her teeth like the predator she was.

“Right away ma’am!” The small bartender ducked her head in a nod and hurried off, disappearing into a well hidden doorway that would lead her upstairs and to the office area of the club. Another worker came over and got her the fizzy pop, so Nisha sipped on that while she waited.

It wasn’t longer than five minutes before the bartender was back, a tall thin man behind her. 

“Ms. Kadam, a pleasure. How may I help you today?” His voice was even, pleasant but cool. He wanted her gone as soon as possible, she knew that without a doubt.

She wasted no time, not mincing her words as she stated what she wanted, “I need you to tell me where one of your workers lives. I’ve got past business with him that needs to be finished. You will do this, or you will find yourself skag food for a few pets I have.”

The man's eyes hardened, and he sucked in a breath as he worked through her words. She knew he’d give in. It was only a matter of minutes.

“Your choice. The address or your life. If it means anything, I won’t hurt him. We just need to talk.” She didn’t mention Jack, of course. But they probably knew or at the least suspected since he’d been incessant in his queries about Robin. 

He sighed, shoulders slumping the tiniest bit. “I will write it down you you. Please wait here. And if you need anything Ela will serve you.” With those final words he turned and walked away, stride even as he did.

Nisha just smiled and drank more pop, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gunna try to update my other stories over the next few days, constant i think will be upnext with a short filler chapter but we'll see
> 
> [my tumblr](https//handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


	10. Closer

Rhys started at the woman. _Nisha god-fuckin-damned Kadam was in his apartment_ . He was _so_ going to die.

“Well hello there little bird. You’ve flown quite far, haven’t you?” She said, smiling easily at him as she lounged on his couch.

Yvette and Vaughn were out, Vaughn with his boyfriend August and Yvette still at work. So he was home alone with her for who knows how long

“Hello...Did, um. Did Handsome Jack send you?” _Of course he did you fucking idiot why else was she here?_ He thought harshly, still looking at her.

Something about her was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Her eyes were a beautiful deep amber, almost like a cats. A big cat, one who was circling in on helpless prey.

“Oh little songbird why else would I be here?”

He gulped but straightened his back, trying to steel himself. “Okay. Where is he?”

“Not here. He doesn't even know where you live, songbird. He won't for another few days. I wanted to catch up with you.” She replied, still grinning wide as she talked to him.

Rhys felt his shoulders sag a bit in relief, though he was still wary. Jack would get to him eventually. But he had some breathing room and time to plan.

“Catch up? I don't even _know_ you.”

“On the contrary, you know me quite well.” She sat up finally and shrugged off her jacket, tossing it over the couch. Her arms were scarred up, the light lines stark against her darker skin, and the tank she wore old but well cared for, a large purple star on the lower left side. Which Nisha was now...lifting up? Holy shit she was _stripping!_

Rhys backed up and looked away, only catching the barest hint of dark ink as she pulled her shirt up.

“Not to be rude or anything ma’am, but what the hell?” Rhys couldn't help it as the words slipped out of his mouth. He twitched, and braced himself for pain, but instead of shooting him, Nisha Kadam just laughed and tossed her shirt to the side. Now she stood in his apartment half dressed, in just her jeans and a bra.

“So Raven, I figured you would have recognized a lil ol’ gal like me but if this is what it takes I don't mind much.” Her words were soft and sinuous, sliding through the air and registering in his brain.

Rhys _froze,_ eyes wide and body tense. Only Vaughn knew his stage name from Ti’vovar. Vaughn and apparently Nisha fucking Kadam, Handsome Jack's right hand woman. _I'm so screwed._

“Cat got your tongue songbird?” She teased, standing from the couch and making her way to him. “You can look. Not like you haven't seen it before.”

He took a breath and turned his head back towards her slowly, keeping his eyes on her face. “Who the hell are you?”

“Birds of a feather flock together Raven. Especially corvids like us.” She smiled at him, something soft and personal and so _familiar_. He glanced down at her words, the skin of her right side covered in a tattoo he knew too well.

It was a small flock of ravens, flying off the top of a long black-blue feather, oh so similar to the one on his bedside table.

“K?” He asked faintly, knees weak.

She smiled wider, amber eyes softer than he'd seen in a long while. “Heya kiddo. It's been a long time, yeah?”

His brows narrowed, right shoulder tensing further, and he punched hard in the stomach.

Nisha gave a gasp, doubling over with a hand covering the area. “Hooooboy, I suppose I deserved that. New arm I’m yours can pack more of a punch than your skinny ass usually can.”

Rhys frowned and _hmph_ ’d, his previous fear forgotten. She might look different, act a bit more wild and threatening, but it was still his K.

“You're an asshole.”

“And you're a whiny bitch.”

“Fair enough.’

They glanced at each other throughout the exchange before breaking into laughter. It was foreign but so close to home that it ached beyond the burn for air and the cramp in his gut. Rhys felt himself sinking into the familiarity and security of K...Or, rather, Nisha now. But it was the same person to him. It always would be. She was K, she was Nisha, she was _his_. And, in return, he was hers. Like it had always been and always would be.

“So you've grown a lot little Raven,” she commented, slightly out of breath while he grabbed drinks from the small kitchen.

“Rhys. My name’s Rhys” he corrected her, “And yours is Nisha. It's pretty, I like it.” He handed her one and sat crossed legged facing her, back leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Yeah I guess. A name’s a name. Yours fits you though. Fancy and short,” she snickered.

Rhys stuck his tongue out and lightly hit her with his foot. He went to go say something when the door to the apartment opened and Vaughn walked in with August, groceries in and a smile on his face.

A smile which froze upon seeing a half dressed Nisha Kadam lounging on the couch with a comfortable, happy Rhys.

“Well shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my tumblr](https://handsomejackisback.tumblr.com)


End file.
